


one of those days

by Atalto



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, For Nat’s Birthday!!!!!, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, References to PTSD, a rate Trope I know, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 09:30:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16741420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atalto/pseuds/Atalto
Summary: Lance doesn’t have a good day, but Shiro is here to make everything better with cuddles and a nap(Happy birthday nat!!!!! Ily!!!!)





	one of those days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [strawberrylovely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberrylovely/gifts).



> Hello all!!!!
> 
> This is a birthday present for my dear friend Nat - I hope you didn’t mind waiting a little while for it!!!!!
> 
> Enjoy this tiny little snippet <3

"Hey, Shiro?"

It has been a quiet day, short of meetings and briefings and paperwork. Shiro hasn't stood up from his desk for most of the day, and damn doesn't he know it. His back aches from leaning over the desk, despite the moulded chair back, and his eyes sting from the artificial light.

He also hadn't seen Lance all day, which was never a good omen; he'd woken up to an empty bed that morning, not even a ghost of warmth in the place beside him. Admittedly he'd caught a glimpse of the young man across the meeting room, but it wasn't anything more than a lock of eyes and the brief hints of a playful smile.

It's kind of embarrassing how much he misses him.

So when the door to their dorm clicks open to reveal Lance stood in the entrance, worn out look on his face and a heavy sigh playing on his lips, Shiro hardly knows what hit him.

"Are you alright?" He asks immediately, pushing himself to his feet to greet Lance at the threshold, and Lance shrugs awkwardly, shifting his feet around whilst staring intently at his hands, "what's wrong?"

He's silent for another second, only moving to let the door slide shut behind him as they're plunged into the dim light of Shiro's deck lamp once again. Something isn't right, he decides, and as the shadows cast dark stripes across Lance's face, they highlight the bags under his eyes, the furrow of his brow, the downcast line of his lips.   
Finally, after a period of silence, Lance shrugs, taking a few tentative steps forward as Shiro pushed himself to his feet.

"It's been a long day," Lance replies, an uncharacteristic flatness in his voice, and Shiro can do little but gather the smaller man into his arms, feeling him melt against him as he slots into Shiro's side like putty.

"I know sweetheart, I know," Shiro responds, voice barely a whisper above the humming silence of Atlas. Lance, if possible, shuffles closer, burying his face in Shiro's neck. He wants to pry, wants to ask what had happened to make lance so distressed, but he knows that's not how they work; Lance will tell him when he's ready, once he's calmed down and his mind isn't racing like the Red Lion.

"Tired?" He asks, allowing the prosthetic to stroke slow lines up Lance's back, and he feels Lance's gradually slowly breath against his neck. He feels a nod, and steps away from Lance to take his hand and lead him towards the bed. "Come on then, let's sleep."

Lance frowns, remaining rooted to the spot. "Dinner's gonna' be soon," he says quietly, despite Shiro lamely tugging on his hand, "we'll miss it."

"I'll set an alarm," Shiro counters, and with that, Lance lets himself be pulled towards the bed. Almost immediately, Shiro gathers him into his arms, holding him so close he thought Lance would fall apart.

True to his word, he fumbles an alarm on his phone, careful not to disrupt Lance who was slowly, ever so slowly relaxing in his arms.

"There." Shiro hummed, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head. "It'll wake us up ten minutes before dinner, okay?"

Lance nods, breaking away from Shiro for a second to fall backwards into the bed with a huff. "Sorry about this-"

"Don't apologise," Shiro replies immediately, setting his phone on the bedside table and laying down next to Lance, "god knows the amount of times you've had to deal with me when I'm not feeling too great."   
He laughs, and trails off slowly only to hear the gentle but definite sound of Lance's wet chuckles.

"True," Lance murmurs, letting Shiro wrap his arms around him once again, "I guess it's only fair."

With that, he wiggles, getting comfortable in the embrace as Shiro pulls him into his chest. Shiro feels a deep sigh flutter over the shirt at his shoulder, and he looks down to see colour returning to his boyfriend's cheeks, barely noticeably from where they're practically buried in the material of Shiro's shirt.

"You feeling better?"

He feels Lance nod, earning a squeeze in return, and the body in his arms relaxes slightly. It's a relief, since the man had been on edge all morning; Shiro guesses this entire thing was the result of that, of several days of bottled up emotions and smiles that had grown faker by the day.

That's when he feels tears seep through the material of his jacket.

Shiro sighs quietly, stroking one hand down Lance's back as he cries himself out. He buries one hand in Lance's hair, carding through gently in time with the slowing huffs for breath.

"You okay?"

There's a sniff, and one of Lance's hands moves to wipe at his nose. "Sorry."

"Don't apologise," Shiro replies immediately, moving his head down to press a kiss to Lance's head, "do you want to talk about it?"

Lance shrugs, finally pulling his face away from Shiro's chest; his eyes are puffed and red, and he averts his gaze with a hint of shame. "Not much to talk about - just one of those days, y'know?"  
He flashes a shaky grin, a brief reminder of Lance's usual nature that never fails to shine through.

"I know," Shiro agrees, matching Lance's smile with his own, "that's okay, I know."

A slightly dark chuckle is shared between the two of them, Lance reaching up to wipe away the last vestiges of tears from his eyes.  
"Turns out war's one hell of a bitch."

Shiro knocks their forehead together, moving one arm from Lance's middle to lace their fingers together. "God, tell me about it," he replies, rolling his eyes playfully to Lance's bubbling giggles, "a right fucker, the complete worst."

By now, his sniffs have slowed, and the rawness of his eyes have been replaced by tired looking circles. It's not perfect - there's still that haunted look in his eyes that Shiro hates seeing, and he looks too tired for what is technically mid afternoon - but he’ll take it over a Lance that can hardly breathe through tears.

The giggles fade away slowly, replaced by the hypnotic lulling hum of slowing breath. The butterfly-like fluttering is Lance’s tired eyelids whisper against Shiro’s jacket, until his body is lax in Shiro’s arms, the faint sounds of his purring snores filling the room.

Taking a last, loving look at Lance’s sleeping form, Shiro finally allows himself to relax into the pillows, tugging Lance close as sleep claws at his own vision. Now that he knows Lance is safe, protected, and okay - if just for this one moment - he can be at ease.

If just for this one moment.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this was okay for you!!!
> 
> <3 <3 <3 <3 <3


End file.
